The Nature of Things

The man like a phoenix rose from the smoke And we with the audicity to hope looked up and heard The strange cawing of the vulture white bird Like a code unciphered, and yet the angst provoke Of allies in the foxholes fretting for a change. O this is a time between peace and war, no strange Allegories here. Numbered with dead, some Disrupting double consciousness found ransome In books and ballot, a narrow, but fertile range To sing of the weary years a different way. We sang a rap around the blues without dismay And knew that singing needed wings as well For feathers when lingered in the flames made hell Hotter in the heart. And there the phoenix like day Renewed rose to better us in our dreams. But the constant cawing, the vultures loud screams In decibels of silence are rattling the moon A phoenix only flies when the nest egg is ruin Walk softly on the brittle shells, here are our dreams It's late, it's late you cannot turn back the clock Among the prairie hens are eagles fallen from the rock.